Then I Shall Teach You
by KumaKichii
Summary: Amu cancels her plans to go ice-skating with Rima because of an unexpected cold. Rima decides to go anyway, but she forgot one minor detail--She doesn't know how to ice-skate! Can a rather unfortunate run-in with Nagihiko fix this problem?


A few lone snowflakes drifted aimlessly to the ground to join the large collection that was already piled high along the streets. It was a cold morning, silent except for small birds chirping quietly in the leafless branches of the trees... Until a loud, angry shriek pierced the air, scaring the birds and causing them to fly away in a frenzied flurry of wings and feathers.

"What do you MEAN you can't go?!" I wailed into the receiver. I was sure my strawberry-haired friend was cringing on the other line. "How dare you ditch me?!!" My voice dripped with venom; I would usually never be this harsh with Amu. But I had really been looking forward to this outing, and now she was canceling. My day was officially ruined, and it was only eight A.M.

"I'm sorry, Rima-chan!!" Amu coughed on the other end of the line. "I wasn't sick yesterday at all. But my throat is really sore, and there's no way I can go ice-skating with you..." She really did sound terrible, and that should've made me feel bad. But then again, didn't she feel any sympathy at all for the one she was leaving all alone, with nothing to do?

Flashback

Amu had approached me the day before, after our meeting at the royal garden. She looked excited, like she usually did at the end of the week—a big change from her "cool and spicy" attitude that she usually displayed within the boundaries of the school walls.

"Rima-chan!" she called, though she was already right in front of me. I made a mental note that I needed to find a way to keep her from being around

Yaya so much...

"What is it, Amu-chan?" I asked, pushing away the thought. It was Friday, school was over, and I had tomorrow off. I should be happy.

The pink-haired girl giggled excitedly, which kind of freaked me out, it was so out of character. "The pond in the park is finally frozen! Let's go ice skating tomorrow!"

That actually sounded like a lot of fun. I didn't really have much to do Saturday anyway, other then sit at home and read gag manga. I smiled and nodded, my golden curls bouncing up and down. "Ok!"

End Flashback

"But Amuuuuu!!" I wailed, once again startling the birds, who had resettled themselves in the tree. "What am I supposed to do?!"

There was silence on the other line. Had Amu hung up on me? She wouldn't... "I'm sorry, Rima-chan... I have to go rest..." No, she hadn't hung up. So maybe there was still a chance.

"Amuuuuu!" I whined, fake tears collecting in my eyes, even though I knew she couldn't see me. _Click._ "Amu?" The phone buzzed metallically in my ear. This time, I was on my own.

Now I was standing silently by the edge of the crystallized water, wallowing in my own self-pity. I didn't like being alone. Well, not exactly alone; there were several other people at the pond as well, enjoying themselves while I brooded on my own. I started to regret my decision to come here at all. What was the point if there was no one else to enjoy the day with? Or, at the very least, someone to share my misery with. I continued to ask myself these questions, though I wasn't getting an answer to any of them. I sighed heavily, my breath billowing out around me in a large puff of steam.

I decided that if I was going to be here, I might as well try to enjoy myself, though I was pretty sure it was a lost cause. I sat down in the snow at the edge of the ice and began to tie the laces of my ice skates. They were new, and they fit well, though they were a bit uncomfortable. I stood up, balancing precariously on the blades of my skates, and stepped out onto the reflective surface of the frozen water... That's when I promptly slipped and fell, wincing at the impact of the hard ice.

As I glared daggers at the frozen surface beneath me, something occurred to me that I should've realized the moment Amu invited me to the pond in the first place. Though I hadn't thought of it then, it was so painfully obvious now that I felt extremely stupid for not figuring it out earlier...

Mashiro Rima could not ice skate.

As I continued to stare at the frozen surface of the pond, not sure whether I was actually mad at the ice, or just trying to intimidate my own reflection with my ice-cold eyes, I felt like a total idiot. What had made me think that somehow, in the middle of the night, I had gained the ability to ice skate? I'd never even tried before, and I wasn't sure I would be any good at it. However, I was sure of one thing: that if I didn't calm down, the waves of anger radiating from my body would melt all the snow within a five-mile radius of my location.

"Rima-chan, if you keep glaring at the ice like that, you'll burn a hole in it." A voice, a painfully familiar, yet oh-so-irritating voice, interrupted my pity-party. "Then you'll fall in."

About five seconds prior to hearing this, the thought had dared to enter my head that this day couldn't possibly get any worse. This, however, shot that idea down completely, pretty much killing it... And the last of my sanity. I slowly shifted my glare to the person staring down at me, balancing perfectly on the thin blades of his ice skates. His big brown eyes were filled with amusement and mockery, and his long violet hair fluttered gracefully behind him, stirred by the cold breeze of winter.

Mashiro Rima could not ice skate. And she was sure that Fujisaki Nagihiko would do everything in his power to make sure she never lived it down.

"What're you doing here?" I demanded, my voice cold as the ice beneath me, if not more so. He didn't seem intimidated at all by my harsh tone, which only infuriated me further. I was fairly sure I'd be a little more frightening once I got taller. But then again, maybe not.

"Ice-skating," was his reply, obviously. I was unsure why I had asked the question in the first place; why else would he be here, at a frozen pond, wearing ice skates? This question was followed by a more vexing one: why was _I _here, at a frozen pond, wearing ice-skates? Because as far as I could tell, I _wasn't _ice-skating. I guessed that it had just felt like the appropriate thing to say to him at the time, given my displeasure at seeing him here.

"I think I should be the one asking that question, Rima-chan," he continued, smirking. "Since you don't appear to be doing much skating." He voiced my thoughts, only succeeding in irking me even more.

"Don't call me by my first name!" I spat angrily, which was rather ridiculous since he always did. I was just overly-annoyed at the remark he'd made about my ability--or inability--to ice skate, though I'd secretly been thinking the same.

"Don't you know how to ice skate?" he asked curiously, though I was sure he'd only asked for his own amusement, as the answer was right in front of him. He just wanted to make me say it, and humiliate myself further. I remained silent, my arms stubbornly crossed in front of my chest while small clouds of steam puffed from my mouth.

_No, you purple-headed, cross-dressing idiot, I cannot ice-skate. Would you like to point out another of my flaws and make my life even more miserable? Please feel free. Thank you very much._

Suddenly he reached out his hand, offering it to me in a kind gesture. I refused to look up at him, that is, until he said, "I'll teach you, if you'd like."

At this, I craned my neck upward to look at his face. His eyes showed no trace of the mockery that had lingered there before. Instead, he seemed to be making a real offer. He wanted to teach me to ice skate. I was unsure how to react, and finally, I settled for just getting annoyed, as I usually did. I scrambled awkwardly to my feet, ignoring the hand that he still held out to me. After a few failed attempts, I succeeded in finding my footing and teetered on the blades of my skates. "I don't want you to teach me anything," I snapped, trying to sound intimidating. By the look on his face, I was failing at that, too. "I never said I couldn't ice skate!"

The humor returned to his chocolate brown eyes. "You're the one who, to put it bluntly, just fell on her butt," he stated, and I fumed. It was still a mystery to me how some random guy that looked uncannily like a girl could manage to make my life a living hell whenever he pleased. This, unfortunately, was all the time.

"I tripped!" I shot back. I was lying through my teeth. But I'd rather lie than humiliate myself again. Unfortunately, I was about as good at lying as I was at ice-skating.

Nagihiko smirked at me, and then gracefully skated a few yards out onto the frozen water. "Alright," he said, flicking his hair back in a rather girly way. This bothered me, though I had no idea why. "Come here then."

I didn't move. There was no way I could, or I'd fall again, which I'm quite sure he knew already. Somehow, because of him, I'd managed to lie, AND humiliate myself at the same time. Purple-Head: One. Rima: Zero. This was not going to end well.

After a few long moments of me trying to stand there without falling, Nagihiko approached me again. "It's alright if you can't ice skate, Rima-chan," he said sweetly, which made me gag. I didn't bother to point out that he was using my first name again. "You can always learn how. And I'd be happy to teach you." _Oh, wouldn't you now? _He flicked his hair back again; that was really starting to get on my nerves.

"I don't want to learn from some annoying cross-dresser who has nothing better to do than agitate me! Go bother someone else, or spend the afternoon trying on kimonos, or whatever the heck you stupid cross-dressers do for fun!" I spat harshly. Even I thought that this time, I'd gone a little too far with the insults. Especially because this time, he looked rather hurt. I immediately felt bad, which I didn't understand at all. I hated him; shouldn't making him upset make me feel good about myself? That sounded cruel, but it was the way I was used to thinking about him. But still, maybe I _had_ been too harsh.

I opened my mouth to apologize, but he cut me off. His big brown eyes were dull; he looked as if I'd cut his heart out. And I felt guilty enough that I might as well have. "I'm sorry, Mashiro-san..." he said, throwing a small, sorrowful smile in my direction. I noticed immediately that he had called me by my last name, as I had asked him; what I didn't understand was why it bothered me. "You're right. I'll leave you alone." He lowered his eyes from mine, then turned away and began to leave. If I said something to him, I'd be taking a risk. Would he get angry? I wanted to apologize, which was out of character for me. But this time, I really felt guilty.

"F-Fujisaki...?" I asked softly. His pace slowed, but he didn't stop, or turn around. I decided to try a different method. I waited for a moment, and then called out in the same soft tone, "Nagihiko?"

This time, he turned around, though the pain was not gone from his expression. "Yes, Mashiro-san?" Although I had told him not to use my first name, that I didn't like him calling me "Rima-chan, I found that I didn't like being called "Mashiro-san," even more. Not by him.

I took a deep breath, and then looked up at him, meeting his pretty brown eyes with my golden ones. "I suppose..." I trailed off. Despite everything, my stubborn personality simply would not let me admit, to him, myself, or otherwise, that he was actually _helping_ me. "I suppose..." I smiled slightly. "I'll let you assist me."

Nagihiko's eyes were indecisive, and he hung back, as if he didn't think I'd actually meant it. After what I'd said to him, I didn't exactly blame his hesitance. But I, being the stubborn little girl everyone knows and loves, just couldn't put aside my differences with him and spit out some sweet little comment to confirm what I'd said. So I settled for sarcasm.

"C'mon, Pretty-boy," I said, rolling my eyes and huffing out another cloud of steam. "You're getting your wish, aren't you? So if you're going to teach me to ice-skate, get your butt over here."

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. Calling him

_Pretty-boy_ was definitely a bad idea, especially right after _stupid, annoying cross-dresser._ One might say "adding insult to injury," or "rubbing salt in the wound." But that's me, the cute, demonic chibi who can never say anything nice.

As I expected, his eyes dulled again, and he turned away. I thought I heard him mutter, "I knew she didn't really mean it…" And his usually-cheerful voice was weighed down with misery.

The very small part of me that wasn't feeling guilty wondered why he was being so touchy today. But the other part of me, which _was_ feeling guilty, was making me mentally kick myself over and over. "Nagihiko," I said quietly, making my strongest attempt to keep all traces of sarcasm and annoyance out of my voice. The result was a sickeningly sweet coo that might've made me gag, if I wasn't preoccupied. "Nagihiko, I didn't mean it…"

He turned around, his eyes looking even more miserable than his voice had sounded, if that was even possible. It made me flinch—something I don't normally do unless something's airborne and flying in a direct path toward my head. Nothing was flying _at_ my head at this particular moment, unless there was some unknown projectile snowball that I wasn't aware of. However, there were many thoughts and emotions flying _through_ it. Specifically confusion. And guilt. I hated Purple-head, didn't I? This is why I didn't understand why the misery his eyes showed reflected what I was feeling. I hated him; shouldn't hurting him make me feel good? I recalled asking myself the same question from earlier, and though I hadn't had an answer then, I did now. _No._

Now I—partially—understood why I felt guilty. I felt bad for upsetting him. So I tried to fix it. "I really didn't mean it, Nagihiko… Do you still want to teach me..?"

He still looked indecisive, and the pain had still not completely removed itself from his chocolate brown eyes. I stared down at my reflection in the ice and whispered, just loudly enough for him to hear "Please…?"

This seemed to startle him a little, and I could guess why. Nagihiko had never heard me ask for something, let alone ask nicely. What probably vexed him more than that was the simple fact that it was _him _whom I was asking. The small part of me that wasn't still feeling guilty about upsetting him wondered idly if he was going to have a heart attack. Or run away screaming.

He surprised me by doing neither. He surprised me even more by gracefully skating over to me, and by the time he took my hand, I was the one in danger of having a heart attack. "Of course I'll teach you, Mashiro-san."

Addressing me formally brought me back from my near-heart attack experience. "Rima," I said quietly, causing him to look at me funny. "Just Rima…"

This seemed to make his day, if my accepting his offer to teach me to ice-skate hadn't done that already. "Alright, Rima-chan." He smiled at me then, and started to slowly pull me across the ice.

This was the part I'd been dreading; I could hardly balance, and even though he was holding me up, I couldn't stop thinking about falling. I teetered on the blades of my skates, staring down at my own terrified expression on the frozen surface, which seemed to be laughing at me. I wanted to yell at it, to tell it to stop laughing—nothing was funny; however, I was quite certain that this would earn me some odd looks from the strangers around me.

"Rima, have you been listening to a word I've been telling you?" Nagihiko's voice, sounding the slightest bit annoyed, broke into my thoughts—and my concentration, ruining my "don't fall" strategy. The blades of my skates slipped from under me, and I shrieked as I fell, startling a flock of birds for the third time that day.

Through the frightened chirping of the birds, my brain was somehow able to register the fact that the impact of the ice had never come. It also told me that I couldn't see, which made me realize that I'd shut my eyes, even though that should've been obvious enough to begin with. I opened them and, rather than looking down in search of the reason I hadn't fallen on my butt, I looked up—and found myself nose to nose with Nagihiko.

"As I was saying, the first thing you need to do is learn to balance," he said, a smirk playing on his lips. His arms were wrapped protectively around my middle, somehow holding me up while simultaneously maintaining his own balance on the thin blades of his skates. "If you'd been listening, you would've known that."

At this point, two things had occurred to me. First, that Nagihiko was a jerk. This wasn't new to me. Second, he was a jerk that had just saved my life—or the equivalent of doing so—and who was still holding me up in an oddly hug-like position. Shortly thereafter, the third, and probably most obvious to the both of us, thing occurred to me: my cheeks were burning, and were probably the most brilliant shade of crimson red anyone could've ever imagined.

After several long seconds, I managed to find my legs. As I scrambled awkwardly to find my footing on the slippery surface, Nagihiko kept his arms securely around my waist, supporting me in case I should happen to fall again. After a few failed attempts, I was able to stand shakily on the ice, and though he had let go of my waist, Nagihiko still held me up by letting me cling to his arm.

"Are you going to listen this time, or do we have to repeat that little scene?" he said with a little chuckle, which caused me to glare up at him, though I was sure it wasn't intimidating him in the least.

"Maybe if you didn't make it so _boring_," I suggested, exaggerating, and he laughed.

"I'll try." Nagihiko smiled before continuing. "You have to be able to balance. If you're able to maintain your balance while moving across the ice, you'll—"

I hadn't meant to get distracted, but suddenly I found myself wondering if it was just a stroke of luck, whether good or bad, that Amu had cancelled on me today. If she hadn't, maybe I never would've run into Nagihiko. Then he wouldn't be teaching me to ice-skate. What a funny thing it would've been if Amu had actually set—

"Rima-chaaan…" Nagihiko's long, drawn out whine interrupted my train of thought. "How am I supposed to teach you how to skate if you ignore me?"

I was just a little agitated that he'd snapped me out of it, because I had been onto something—I was sure of it. So I glared up at him, but the glare was playful. "Sometimes I wonder if you only talk for the pleasure of hearing your own voice," I remarked, and suddenly he winced.

"That hurts, Rima-chan…" he said, and his voice seemed a little bit strained. I immediately felt the guilt settle over me, and looked up at him. "I'm sorry, Nagihiko… I didn't mean—"

He cut me off. "No, your pathetic attempts at insults don't bother me," he said, and his eyes showed humor, mixed with a bit of pain. "But I would prefer that you didn't break my arm…"

The two halves of me were thinking separate things again. In my mind, I quickly thought over his statement about my "pathetic attempts at insults," and wondered idly that if my insults were so pathetic, why he had looked so upset before. But I pushed that aside when I noticed what he meant about his arm. I was clutching it so that I wouldn't fall down again, and apparently I was exerting way too much force.

I let go, and slipped on the ice. I instinctively grabbed hold of his arm again, but considerably more gently than before. "Thank you," he said, rubbing the part of his arm that wasn't being clung to.

I couldn't help laughing, though I stifled it for fear of losing my balance. "I'm sorry." I was secretly amused, and a little bit proud of myself for my strength, though the happiness wasn't directed toward the fact that I'd hurt him.

"It's alright," he said, and laughed. "Let's try this. Maybe it'll be easier for you to try skating rather than listen to me ramble about it."

"Isn't that the method most people use to begin with?" I asked. "'Trial and Error,' rather than, 'Look and Listen?'"

He chuckled and, while still holding me up by my hands, carefully detached me from his arm. He then held both my hands in his and began to skate backward, facing me and pulling me with him. I made a mental note that—for now, at least—forward skating would be enough for me. Maybe I would try learning to skate backward, after I became a little less accident-prone.

Another displeasing thought occurred to me then: next to the graceful dancer that was leading me across the ice, I probably looked like a fumbling idiot, slipping and sliding every few seconds. This bothered me, but I pushed it aside and focused on not falling. I found that if I bent my knees a little bit, it was easier to balance. Nagihiko had probably said something about that earlier, when I was ignoring him.

"That's it, you're doing well," he said, praising me like a child. This should've gotten on my nerves, but I figured that maybe this once, I could ignore it.

All thoughts of being even _remotely _nice to him vanished the very second he let go of my hands. The knowledge that he was no longer holding me up caused me to panic, and my feet slid out from under me. So I ended up falling onto the hard, cold ice, which I guessed hadn't been his objective. He was instantly by my side, holding out his hand to help me up. This time I took it and allowed him to pull me to my feet, though I was seething.

"I'm sorry, Rima-chan," he said apologetically. "I thought you were ready." When I looked up, there was no mockery or humor in his eyes like I had expected. If anything, he actually looked like he was sorry. Still, I couldn't help giving him at least a little bit of a hard time.

"Of course I wasn't ready!!" I snapped, and I would've jerked my hand away, if he wasn't the only thing holding me up at the moment. "What gave you that idea?!"

He hung his head like a sad little boy, and his bangs flopped down into his eyes. "I'm sorry…" There it was; the miserable tone to his voice was back, doing weird things to my mind again.

I sighed; this wasn't getting any easier. "It's alright," I said, making my voice sound indifferent. "You might want to wait until I _say_ I'm ready though, rather than trusting your interpretation of my facial expressions."

"I'm sorry…" he said again, still not raising his head, and once again I found that the things he did that should've annoyed me weren't bothering me as much. Or maybe, I observed, they weren't bothering me specifically because it was _him._ I tested this theory quickly in my mind by recalling all the times that Amu, Yaya, or God forbid, Tadase, had used the "I'm a Sad Puppy" trick, whether on me or otherwise. Every time, it had gotten on my nerves to the point that I had wanted to smack them. If I used logic, I knew that Nagihiko's sad-puppy look should've annoyed me more than _that,_ if not to the point where I _did _smack him. However, maybe logic just didn't apply to some things.

For instance, logic did not explain why I hadn't already turned on my heel and left Nagihiko's sorry butt standing alone in the cold. Nor did logic explain why I had absolutely no desire to do so. Usually, logic was my only ally against Nagihiko. But now it seemed that logic had completely deserted me, and had no intention of coming back any time soon. Logic couldn't explain why I was still holding onto Nagihiko's hand. Logic did, however, tell me that I was thinking about logic too much, and the very sound of the word was getting repetitive and beginning to get on my nerves.

Nagihiko was still hanging his head like a child that's just been scolded by his mother, and his bangs were still hiding his pretty brown eyes from view. So, keeping a careful grip on his hand, I squatted down, distributing my weight evenly to both feet so as not to fall, and looked up at him from my newly-created perspective.

"Did you fall asleep?" I asked playfully, as his eyes widened the slightest amount. He obviously hadn't been expecting me to pop up—or rather, down—and ruin his

pity-party. Then he did something unexpected, and to be accurate, involuntary: he blushed. His face didn't turn bright crimson, as mine often did, but his cheeks flushed a slight pink.

This caught me off guard, and all I did was stare up at him, a stupid expression plastered on my face. He just stood there looking down at me and the awkward silence that ensued stretched on for what seemed like an eternity, though I was sure, in the part of my head that wasn't preoccupied, that it had only been a few seconds.

Nagihiko found his voice first, after clearing his throat. "So, do you want to try again?" he asked, finally raising his head, breaking his gaze from mine. I nodded and, using his hand for support, I was able to stand back up without slipping. It was getting a little easier to stand on the ice without wobbling as much.

He carefully took both my hands in his own again, and began to pull me with him as he glided backward across the shiny surface. Somehow, it was easier to stay in an upright position this time. Before my mind could even register what my mouth was saying, I heard myself murmur, "You can let go."

After a brief hesitance, Nagihiko released my hands and I continued to glide forward on the ice. It was strangely similar to moving about on dry ground; if I maintained my balance, I found that I could "walk" on the ice. This motion kept me going in an almost-straight path across the ice while Nagihiko looked on, his eyes showing the slightest trace of shock.

Quickly—and too late, to my dismay—I realized that it was a bad idea to focus on anything other than the task at hand. A _really _bad idea. Nagihiko had distracted me. No, I corrected myself; this wasn't his fault. I had _let _myself get distracted _by_ him. The point was that now I had pretty much forgotten what I was doing, and had begun to wobble on my skates. Flailing my arms probably wasn't the smartest thing to do at the time, but after realizing something else—that I didn't know how to stop—I really couldn't help it.

"Nagihiko!" I shrieked, in what was probably an octave or two higher than my normal voice. "I can't stop!!" I stated the obvious in a shrill screech that could've brought every dog within five miles of the park to my exact location.

Nagihiko was quick, even on the ice. He was suddenly in front of me, ready to stop me without causing me to fall. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to notice that we were right at the edge of the frozen water. So when I ended up running into him, the force of the impact knocked us both off of the ice altogether and into a rather large snowdrift.

A few seconds passed, and in the given time I was able to regain my vision and sense of direction, which had been momentarily lost during the plummet into the snow. The first sensible thought to cross my mind was, _I'm cold._ The second and more important of the two followed shortly thereafter. _Where's Nagihiko?_

That question was answered not two seconds later by a muffled voice from somewhere below me. "Rima-chan, please get off of me." I scrambled to the side quickly, and Nagihiko sat up. He blinked a few times, and then looked at me. His long, violet tresses were matted with frigid chunks of white. I was sure that I didn't look much better, and I lifted my hand to my hair. Sure enough, there were many lumps of snow, all varying in size, nestled among the blonde curls.

Nagihiko looked at me, and I looked at him. There was a short silence that was interrupted by the two of us as we abruptly burst into fits of giggles. "You look ridiculous!" I choked, and he responded by telling me what I already knew, that I "didn't look much better myself." The laughter lasted for several moments, and I was sure that there were several dumbfounded people out on the ice, wondering where the insane noise was coming from. Though my eyes were mostly closed because I was laughing so hard, I was able to catch a quick glimpse of Nagihiko; he was laughing as hard as I was, and his eyes shone with tears.

After a little while, we both managed to calm down and catch our breath. I hadn't laughed like that in a long time, especially around other people. And it seemed odd to me that of all the people I could've been next to during such an extreme fit of giggles, I just had to be with Nagihiko. Once I had thought that it would be nearly impossible for me to laugh around him; I had just proven myself wrong.

Since he could breathe again, Nagihiko had begun picking the fluffy white snow out of his hair. His fingers were quick, and it seemed like only a moment or two had passed before almost all of the miniature snowballs were gone. His hair was straight; I was fairly sure it would take at least an hour to pick the snow out of my hair, because the icy crystals were woven tightly with the bouncy blonde spirals.

I attempted to run my fingers through my hair; with any luck, maybe I would dislodge some of the larger pieces. That plan was an utter failure, as I only succeeded in getting my fingers tangled in my golden tresses. I gritted my teeth and tugged them free, which hurt my head.

Nagihiko was suddenly next to me, gently pulling the snow from my tangled hair. Somehow he managed to hurt me less than I had hurt myself, and I contemplated this while he continued his work. Before long, my hair was practically snow-free. "I think that's as good as it's going to get, Rima-chan," he said, smiling.

I smiled at him—not a sneer or smirk—a genuine smile. "Thanks, Nagi."

"You're welcome, Rima—" he suddenly cut himself off and stared at me like I should be put in the loony bin. Suddenly self-conscious, I wondered if I had done something stupid; why else would he be giving me that look?

"W-What…?" I asked, looking embarrassed although I had no idea why. "What did I do…?" I was a bit worried that I'd upset him somehow.

"What did you just call me?" he asked, his chocolate brown eyes wide with shock. As soon as he said that, I realized what an idiotic thing I'd actually done: I'd called him by his nickname. The nickname that everyone always used to display friendship or affection for him. Until today, I'd never even called him by his first name. It was always "Fujisaki." It was only today that I'd started calling him "Nagihiko," and now I was wondering how in the world I'd made the enormous jump from only using his last name to calling him by the affectionate nickname that Amu and Yaya used to address him. I could see why that might have an effect on him.

"Um… I-I didn't mean—" I was stuttering; not a good sign. "That's not what I meant!!" I was finally able to voice at least part of what I was trying to say, although I wasn't happy with the way it had come out. "I mean… Why does it matter?"

Nagihiko still seemed dazed. "Because if I recall, you said once that 'the day you called me Nagi, hell would freeze over."

Had I said that? Knowing me, the most likely answer would've been yes. I really needed to work on my attitude. "Sorry…" I muttered, and he just stared at me.

Suddenly the annoying smirk was back on his face. "You can call me that all the time, Rima-chan." Now he was pushing my buttons.

"Why would I want to do that!?" I snapped, and he just laughed. It was times like this that I remembered why I was supposed to hate him in the first place. He stood up and held out his hand to me, which I took, despite myself. He pulled me up out of the snow and brushed the lingering white flakes off my back—it was times like this that made me remember that I _didn't _hate him as much as I thought I was supposed to. These thoughts, when combined, were enough to give me a headache.

As he led me back to the ice, I noticed that he didn't let go of my hand, which I tried to convince myself was only because he knew he'd need to hold me up on the ice. Suddenly he looked at me; he appeared to be looking me over, which made me blush a deep red. "Cut that out…" I muttered.

"You look tired," he observed. "And you're soaked—you must be freezing." What he said wasn't far from the truth, not to mention my butt hurt from two two-too-many falls on the ice. But he didn't really need to know that. "Do you want to rest and come back tomorrow?"

That was a tempting offer. Nothing sounded more appealing to me right now than a hot shower and curling up in bed to watch a comedy show or two. Except… Well, there was one thing that was more appealing, and that scared me. Usually that was something I wouldn't turn down for money. But I found myself thinking that I would rather stay here for a while. Though I refused to admit it, even to myself, I found that I was having fun.

"No," I said, surprising him. I was sure that he was expecting me to be eager to get away from him. "I want to try again—" I stopped. What if he didn't want to stay? What if _he _wanted to get away from _me_? "Unless…" I added, sounding a little more upset that I would've liked. "You'd rather leave…"

Nagihiko smiled then. "No, I'd be happy to teach as long as you're willing to learn." He pulled me out onto the ice, and I found that I didn't need to cling to his arm so tightly to stay upright. "You're learning a lot faster than most people would," he remarked, and I laughed. Since when was it so easy to laugh around him? I usually just wanted to stay away from him. Had that really changed in just the short length of one day?

"I know what you're thinking…" he murmured, and looked down at me with those soft brown eyes.

I responded with the first thing that came to mind; looking up at him, I furrowed my brow and tried to look disturbed. "Well, that's creepy in more ways than one," I said, and he laughed before continuing.

"No, Rima. I'm not trying to read your mind. But I guarantee we're both on the same page here. We're both wondering why we're suddenly getting along. Why I'm not teasing you—"

"You _are_ teasing me," I broke in, and he let out another soft chuckle.

"Yes, but in a good way. I'm not trying to annoy you. You're not yelling at me…" he paused for a brief second, "…as much… And," this time he smirked, glancing down at our interlocked fingers. "You're holding my hand."

I wanted so much at that very second to smack that stupid grin off his face. But this presented a problem: he was considerably taller than me—as was everyone—and I doubted that I would be able hit him without jumping. I ventured that jumping while wearing ice skates was an idiotic move in the first place. Jumping while wearing ice skates, and standing on ice, however, was beyond the simple term, "idiotic." I wasn't going to risk that.

So I just glared at him, probably failing once again to look even the least bit threatening. It was a bad idea to take my gaze off of the ice. I slipped, and as I felt my feel begin to slide out from under me, I instinctively wrapped my arms around his middle to hold myself up. To me, it was a simple, "if I don't hold onto something I'll fall," gesture. To any random passerby, it would've looked like I was hugging him. And, God forbid, that's probably what he thought I was doing.

This thought was confirmed when his entire body tensed, and when I looked up at him, his face expressed total shock. "R-Rima-chan…!?"

"I'm only trying to keep myself from falling!" I snapped, but my voice was muffled because at the same time I said the words, he knelt down to my height and hugged me tightly. This, to be blunt, scared the crap out of me. My _enemy _was _hugging _me. If that wasn't the most twisted thing ever heard of, I didn't know what was. But at the same time, I felt safe, with his arms secured around me. And I felt warm, even though my clothes were drenched from the melted snow. This disturbed me greatly. I wanted to push Nagihiko away—to tell him to just leave me alone. But at the same time, I didn't want him to let go.

He made that decision for me by abruptly ending the hug. "Sorry, Rima…" he murmured, as if he was afraid he'd upset me. I saw the reluctance in his eyes, and I could tell that, although he didn't show it, he hadn't really wanted to let go either.

Half upset that he'd hugged me in the first place, and half upset that he'd stopped, I aimed a halfhearted kick at his shin, being careful not to hit him with the blade of my skate. It seemed that everything about me was half-and-half now. Half of me hated Nagihiko, while the other half… didn't.

Nagihiko yelped when the toe of my skate came into contact with his shin—more out of surprise than pain, I guessed, because I hadn't kicked him hard. What I hadn't counted on was him losing his balance; he toppled over and landed right on top of me.

Neither of us was expecting to fall, which we both did, because there was no way I could've supported his weight—me being so much smaller—even if I _had _been expecting him to fall on me, which I hadn't. So I found myself in an extremely awkward position. Sprawled on my back on the ice, I was probably freezing—I couldn't tell, because my mind was preoccupied with something a little higher up on my list than frostbite. I was nose-to-nose with Nagihiko, who was lying on top of me, looking just as shocked as I felt. His face was so close to mine that his violet bangs hung down and tickled my forehead.

The first thought that crossed my mind was completely ridiculous. The second made much more sense, and explained the first. The second thought was that I was absolutely out of my mind. Somehow during this whole experience, I had gone crazy. What else could explain why the first thought had even dared to enter my aching head in the first place? But his face was so close… Only an inch or so from mine… Why was it so hard to resist doing what I knew—or thought—I didn't want to do?

I didn't have to make the decision; Nagihiko, as red-faced as me, stood up quickly and offered me his hand. I wanted to take it so badly, but it was against everything that held my sanity in place. That thin cord holding me in place that could so easily be cut. I forced myself to ignore the offered hand, which he let drop do his side, a look of rejection and hurt evident on his face. I finally got to my feet without his aid, and turned away from him quickly; I guessed that I'd learned enough that I'd be able to get back off of the ice without falling too many times.

I tried to push the image of his face out of my mind, but with absolutely no luck. The sad, pained expression he wore was achingly familiar, and after a second or two I recognized it as the look displayed on the face of a crying girl, who'd just been rejected harshly by the boy she was crushing on. How ironic, I thought, to be comparing Nagihiko to that girl.

Though I had turned my back on him, I had still not moved from where I stood on the ice, and a small part of me wondered that maybe, if I stood there long enough, I might freeze and become a part of it. My heart was already ice, I thought, feeling nothing but hatred and loathing toward myself. Cold, hard ice, more frigid than that which was beneath the blades of my skates. How long had it been this way? How long had the cold feeling in my chest lingered, refusing to melt? Long enough, I decided, that I'd grown used to the chill. Long enough that the warmhearted smiles of my friends had no effect on it, nor did anything else.

Though my mind screamed at me to run, to get away from this place—away from him—my body refused to move. My instincts, that had grown so used to my frigid, solitary lifestyle, shunned change—shied away from the very thought. But something in my heart, although it had remained cold for so long, felt strangely warm.

Involuntarily, my head turned to look back over my shoulder—back at the boy who still stood behind me. His facial expression remained the same, that same, miserable look. The girl that had tried so hard to impress and please the one she loved—and was rudely shot down despite her best efforts. Nagihiko's eyes did not meet my own, but I saw the pain reflected there in those deep chocolate orbs. Just looking at his sorrowful eyes brought tears to my own, and I felt my hand on my face, trying to rub them away.

All at once, everything Nagihiko had ever done for me flashed through my mind in a blur—some were mean, such as teasing and taunting me, and getting in the way of my friendship with Amu. But the more I thought about it, I realized that he hadn't been trying to hurt me… Not in the cruel way that I had tried to hurt him. And compared with everything else, all the nice things he had done, all the times he had been there for me—even when I didn't want him there—those rare moments that he showed a spiteful side seemed small and unimportant.

The warm feeling in my chest grew as I thought about these things, and suddenly, seeing him the way he was now, so fragile and hurt, made me angry. I didn't like seeing him this way—even though I had been the cause—and I wanted to fix it. Part of me knew there was only one way to do that, but that part of my mind was the same part I had deemed crazy just moments ago. A second later, I came up with a new word to describe it, being that my pride wouldn't tolerate being called "crazy". This new word was _impulsive._ That was my _impulsive _side speaking. My _impulsive _side was telling me what to do, and my not-so-impulsive side—my _logical _side, as I called it, although logic had deserted me long ago—was arguing.

What scared me was that the idea my impulsive side had conjured up was—almost—guaranteed to work. What was even more frightening was the fact that it was something I wanted to do, though the logical part of me was shrieking warnings to me that it was a bad idea. So I decided to do it. Actually, I wasn't sure if I had really _decided _anything. Maybe I was delusional, or maybe I just wanted to get it over with before the sane thoughts I still had were able to talk me out of it.

Turning around to face him—and being careful not to fall on my butt, as I was still on the ice—I looked up at him with determination—or maybe it was fear—sparkling in my eyes. I didn't give myself the chance to change my mind as I stretched up on my toes, gripping his shoulders so I didn't fall, and pressed my lips to his. My eyes were closed, but I was fairly sure his weren't. If anything, they were wide open with total shock.

Despite the dreadful winter chill, his lips were warm. And soft. A million things went through my head at once as I kissed him, and one of those things was my frustration that he wasn't responding. Even though I knew it was just because he was too stunned to make any real sense of anything at the moment, I still felt upset; hurt. I pulled back and dropped back onto my feet. I didn't look at him; instead I hung my head, letting my blonde curls hide my face. I felt hot tears sting my eyes—tears of rejection.

Out of my peripheral-vision, I saw movement, though I didn't feel like lifting my head to see what it was. Suddenly I felt his cool fingers under my chin, tilting my head up, and all at once, his lips were on mine. This time, his eyes were closed, and it was my turn to stare in shock. It seemed as though time had stopped; my hearing had ceased, and my vision was a bit blurred. All my attention was focused on his lips moving gently against my own, his warm hand cupping my face.

Before I really knew what I was doing, I started to kiss him back. My arms somehow wound themselves around his neck, and I unconsciously played with his pretty violet hair. My cheeks were flushed bright red, and somehow I knew that he was blushing too. If he hadn't broken the kiss, I was sure we would've stayed like that until one or both of us passed out from lack of air.

As we both gulped air into our oxygen-deprived lungs, my arms stayed securely locked around his neck, and his hands remained where they were, one on my shoulder, then other still resting against my cheek. Finally we were both able to catch our breath, and we stared at each other for several long seconds, the silence stretching out between us.

He broke the silence more suddenly than he had broken the kiss. "Rima—" he murmured, and I shushed him.

"You know what?" I asked, staring evenly at him, no longer afraid. I understood everything now. Everything that was so unfocused and fuzzy before was suddenly crystal clear, and I wondered how I hadn't realized it before. The answer was so obvious the entire time, but I had been to naïve to grasp it, as it had been something unfamiliar to me. Nagihiko was silent, waiting for me to continue, gently stroking my cheek with his thumb. I took a deep breath, and said bravely, "I think I love you."

Nagihiko stared at me for an endless second; he'd known, I could tell, but he wasn't expecting me to just come right out an admit it. I had even surprised myself—but I guessed that if I was going to change, I might as well start off with a bang. Cold-Rima was definitely not one for passionate confessions, not that what I'd said had been overly-passionate to begin with. A better word would've been _bold._

The response to my _bold _confession was a small chuckle from Nagihiko. He continued to stare at me, and I could feel his warm, chocolate brown eyes melting my long-frozen heart. "Is that what you call it?" he asked, and smirked. "Love?"

At this comment, my heart sank. Did he really not feel the same? Had he only kissed me like that, so gently and lovingly, to tease me? Once again my eyes filled with tears, and a little sob caught in my throat. Had I been wrong before? That one little comment—just one sentence, felt like a cruel blade being stabbed into my chest.

"Then…" he said, and suddenly he pulled me tightly against his chest, burying his face among the golden curls on my head. "I love you, too…" The reply, though muffled by my hair, made my heart leap. He had answered my feelings. Nagihiko really did love me. The tears in my eyes spilled over, some of them soaking into his shirt, and he hugged me tightly, petting my hair. "Shh, Rima…" he murmured, the same way he would comfort a frightened child. "Don't cry…"

I looked up at him through my tears, a little bit of my old, indignant self returning. "You idiot," I said, but my voice was full of affection. "I'm crying because I'm happy. And you're just going to have to deal with it."

Nagihiko chuckled softly and pulled me back to his chest, hugging me tightly and resting his cheek on top of my head. I closed my eyes and let my head lie against his chest. As he held me, there in the middle of that frozen pond in the park, something funny occurred to me. What had started out as a lesson in a recreational winter activity had turned into a lesson in romance. Not only had Nagihiko taught me how to ice-skate… He had also taught me how to love him.


End file.
